


A Night at the Hawke Estate

by Reeseykins



Category: Dragon Age, Dragon Age II
Genre: F/M, Fenris/Female Hawke established relationship, M/M, Porn with some plot, threesome smutty fun times
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-01
Updated: 2012-12-01
Packaged: 2017-11-20 00:34:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/579347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reeseykins/pseuds/Reeseykins
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fenris and Hawke are in an established relationship, and they invite Sebastian to spend the night with them. Sexytimes ensue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Night at the Hawke Estate

Hawke had mischief in her eyes, that was for sure. It was hard to miss, at least for Fenris, who had grown accustomed to his lover’s moods. She was reclining on her couch and drinking long gulps out of one of the bottles of wine he had brought over for the night. Her body language suggested someone that was near to falling asleep. But her eyes. They were practically glittering in the firelight as her gaze roamed suggestively between him and their third companion. He knew what she was about, and he wasn’t going to stop her.

 _“Fenris?”_ she’d asked him one night several days prior, as they lay close together in his Hightown mansion. He had been stroking her hair absently in the afterglow, and her voice seemed like a whisper in the breeze, remote and soft. She’d flipped around and come nose to nose with him, looking deadly serious. _“I was thinking, we should invite Sebastian into our bed some night.”_

He had blushed fiercely at the suggestion, much to Hawke’s excited delight, and he blushed again at the memory. Her ability to cut through the constant barrier he put up against the world, and in her miraculous good-nature never used against him, was one of the things he loved about her. She knew he had unanswered desires, and she knew from watching the two men chatter while they wandered about the Wounded Coast that Fenris was intrigued by Sebastian. And of course, she herself was open to anything, being a “great connoisseur of the male species,” as she liked to say. So instead of prevaricating, she had just given voice to it for him so as not to see him suffer in silence.

Only a few weeks past, Sebastian had made the difficult decision to leave the brotherhood of the Chantry in order to reclaim the throne of Starkhaven. Hawke had never been the type to relentlessly tease Sebastian where his vows were concerned, despite her typical flirtatious and light-hearted attitude. Fenris knew she didn’t press him because she valued Sebastian’s friendship, and because of this he also knew she was only bringing the idea up now because it wouldn’t _technically_ contravene any of their friend’s religious precepts.

What Sebastian’s reaction would be was a mystery to them both, however. His mood was erratic; he was becoming more agitated with each passing day, presumably because he was anxious to return home and get on with what he planned to do. At the same time, however, Fenris knew the man was also loathe to leave Hawke, who’d been such a boon to him over the past few years, in what was clearly a deteriorating situation here in Kirkwall. Fenris thought he wouldn’t be interested, with all this in mind, but Hawke had laid good odds on Sebastian needing to blow off some steam.

Thus, earlier that evening Hawke had asked Sebastian back to her mansion to share a drink with them. Sebastian easily agreed, having been so invited several times in the past. And now, here they were, tongues and inhibitions loosened by their revelry.

Hawke sat up slowly, making a show of stretching her long arms above her head and arching her back. She caught Sebastian’s eye with her movement, and he smiled at her, yawning.

“Sebastian,” she purred, scooting down the couch towards him. “Tired after all the excitement tonight?” Fenris watched as she expertly slid behind him, positioning herself between his back and the couch. She started kneading the muscles in his neck and shoulders—just a pretense, Fenris knew, to make contact. Her smile showed that she was gleeful at getting to use all of her wiles on the once-forbidden target.

Sebastian rolled his shoulders back and grumbled. “The Prince of Starkhaven is so tense!” Hawke proclaimed, a cheery note to her voice. “Come, relax. Allow me.” Her hands disappeared down behind Sebastian’s back, and within a moment she lifted his tunic over his head, leaving his upper body exposed. Fenris could see she was rubbing his lower back, probably working out a knot with her skillful hands. He stole an unimpeded glance and felt his heart jump. Her long legs wrapped around him from behind, and the juxtaposition of her creamy white skin and his strong, well-defined chest, made the elf’s pulse quicken.

“You are ridiculous, Hawke,” Sebastian chuckled and smiled. Fenris felt himself blush at the sight of the man’s dimples, and turned his face away to look into the fire. He could hear Sebastian whisper something, and Hawke reply at a similar volume.

“Fen, he’s worried he’s offended you, by me being so familiar. I said, we’re among friends here, right? You agree?”

Fenris knew he had to play his part. If he wanted this to happen—and he knew now he was in over his head, there was no resisting the beat in his heart that spurred him on—he had to do as Hawke had said and not remain silent as was his wont.

“No, of course not,” he protested, smiling over at them.

After a long pause, he heard Hawke inhale to speak. “Actually, Sebastian. Fenris and I were thinking, if, that is, you were interested, you could, if you didn’t feel like walking home because you were tired, stay the night…with us.” Fenris could see her blush from across the room. She might be a terrible flirt, but she wasn’t a whore, and he knew by her nervous twitter that she really wasn’t used to propositioning someone like that.

Sebastian started, his head jerked up and his eyes went wide as he turned to look at Hawke. Seeing the look on her face and the uncontrolled flush of her cheeks, he turned and caught Fenris’ eye for confirmation. He swallowed, and returned the gaze as steadily as he could. The thought of intimacy with this man—someone he had come to respect and appreciate—made his heart flutter embarrassingly, and he worried that it was written all over his face for Sebastian to see.

“It has…been a while,” Sebastian stated carefully. Hawke smiled, the mischievous glint returning to her eyes. She hesitatingly began rubbing his muscled shoulders, this time inching her hands forward over to splay her fingers against his chest. Sebastian closed his eyes slowly and moaned at her touch.

Fenris felt a wave of relief wash over him. Sebastian hadn’t immediately rejected their offer. It wasn’t what he’d expected, but he had, of course, considered all the possibilities leading up to this night. He’d wondered most of all how to communicate what he wanted to Sebastian—what he wanted to do with him; what he wanted to do to him. But he knew his friend was strong and proud. Would Sebastian let him take him? Hundreds of potentials raced through his mind for days on end as he pondered it, wandering the Wounded Coast with Hawke, Sebastian and Aveline. He also wondered about what he would do if Sebastian fought back and struggled for dominance. Would he let the man win? Every time he got to that point in his line of thought he felt a blush rise in his cheeks that he was positive the others could see if they bothered to notice. He knew the hesitation he felt was the icy grip of his past—the spectre of Danarius, dead now, at Fenris’ own hand, but still reaching out from the grave for him. He couldn’t allow the things he’d experienced as a slave affect his life as a free elf. Danarius and his magister friends had no hold over his life now, his choices were his own. But then, why did every thing he did, every step he took and decision he made, feel like it was all about defying his miserable past?

Back in the present, Fenris looked down and realized his foot was tapping nervously.

For all his introversion, he was strong willed. He stood up with resolve and, with all the quiet of an elf on bare feet, walked over to where his lover was slowly seducing the errant Prince. He extended his hand to Sebastian wordlessly. Sebastian peered out from behind heavy lidded eyes and took the outstretched hand, hauling himself up off the ground. Fenris turned, then, scooped up Hawke in his arms and flipped her easily over his shoulder. Together, the three ascended the stairs towards the bedroom.

~*~

All pretense was cast aside once they were safely locked behind Hawke’s bedroom door. Fenris tossed Hawke like a ragdoll onto the bed with a grunt. Sebastian was, admittedly, surprised to see him so in charge of the situation. He watched as the elf methodically removed his armor piece by piece, and his eyes burned with desire pent up from long years of celibacy. Of course, Sebastian hadn’t seen his chastity as a punishment; it had actually come as a huge relief at first, and over the years had given him a focal point for his devotion. Now, though, it seemed to him that his beliefs were not lessened by enjoying carnal pleasures once again, having no vows left to break.

Sebastian leaned against the corner post of Hawke’s bed and leaned in, content to just let his companions set the pace. They were beautiful together, he thought, and he admired the way Fenris’ dark hands snaked up Hawke’s legs, pulling her closer to the edge of the bed. She gasped in mock-surprise when he roughly pulled off her clothing. She seemed a different person here—less reserved, less controlled. Over the years Sebastian had come to know her as a woman of strength and resolve, someone who faced life with a no-nonsense attitude that inspired the people around her. But here, she was unbound; unfettered and carefree.

She was naked now, and he had to stop himself from staring lewdly at her. Fenris leaned down and kissed her deeply; he could see their tongues dance together from his vantage point, and he heard Hawke moan into the elf’s mouth as his hands brushed her breasts. Fenris broke the kiss, and Hawke pouted and whimpered. She turned her half-lidded gaze upon Sebastian, and he felt himself go weak in the knees. She was all softness and femininity, he thought, framed with raven-black hair and deep, pouting lips, and he felt like he would never make it so far as to touch her, so close was he to losing himself at that moment.

“Sebastian.” Her voice was like a clarion call breaking through the fog, and he was compelled. He slowly rounded the edge of the bed, the final wall he had been keeping up between himself and… _this_. His eyes locked with Hawke’s as he moved. She sat up, then, keeping one hand on Fenris, and reached for Sebastian. Her quick fingers were undoing the laces on his trousers before Sebastian even had a chance to realize it, and soon she had freed him from their confines. Looking over, he saw that she had accomplished the same task with Fenris, and her hand was already stroking up and down his shaft. His attention was diverted as he felt lips brushing his tip, and then suddenly he was seeing stars as he felt her mouth open around him and descend.

Maker, he had to keep it together. He used to be able to go for hours and hours, once with _three_ other people. But now he found his control completely ebbing from him, and he had to fight not to explode with pent-up desire all at once. Unfortunately as he was having these thoughts, he ventured a glance down at Hawke. Her eyes were on him still, her hand grasping him firmly and her mouth, oh that delicious, hot mouth…

“She doesn’t want you to hold back,” Fenris said. If he hadn’t been waiting for the permission, he would have been shocked at the elf’s pronouncement, but as it was he was on the edge of falling off into the abyss. He shouted as he came, his muscles tensed and he felt his hand tangle in Hawke’s hair, seemingly of its own accord. He spent himself in her mouth and she barely flinched, smiling deviously at him when she finally pulled back. He was panting, but let out a breathy laugh when he realized they were both smiling at him.

Hawke shifted herself to face Fenris, beginning over what she had done for Sebastian. Not one to stay idle, Sebastian guided her lower half towards him. He lifted one of her long legs in the air, a hand to her foot, and placed a kiss at her ankle. Slowly, he made a trail of kisses up the inside of her leg, stopping every so often to wet his lips. By the time he reached her inner thigh her leg quivered, but he was not so quick to give in to her need. He lowered her leg and lifted the other, beginning again at her foot. He could hear her making needful sounds, muffled against Fenris. At last he reached the place where her legs met, but this time he didn’t stop.

It had been a long time since he’d tasted a woman, and he relished every second of it. In the past he’d found that pleasing a woman was a simple task, but one which had many benefits. For mere moments of attentive tongue-work, you could whip a woman into a sexual frenzy and have her begging you for more. Although it had been years, Sebastian hadn’t lost his touch. He rested his hand on her stomach, applying the slightest of pressure whenever she strained up against him, and began lavishing her with kisses, nips and strokes of his tongue. Her chest heaved with breathlessness. Slowly, unassumingly, he moved his hand so that his thumb was just grazing where he knew her pearl was hidden. She was moaning languidly in time with the laps of his tongue, when suddenly he rubbed her with his thumb and extended his tongue up inside of her. She cried out and bucked upwards, much to the man’s undeniably smug pleasure.

Somewhere on the edge of his consciousness, he thought he heard Fenris chuckle. He realized dimly that the elf had moved to sit behind her, and when he looked up he saw he was tormenting her breasts with his hands. Hawke was flushed, head to toe, in a most unfamiliar shade of red, but despite her blush she kept her half-closed eyes on Sebastian. An idea came to Sebastian as he watched her writhe under Fenris’ touch.

“Hold her,” he commanded, voice low and filled with lust. Fenris, clearly understanding Sebastian’s plan, readjusted himself and hooked Hawke’s arms up and behind their heads, effectively pinning them (unless, of course, she were to _really_ try to get loose, although Sebastian was counting on her not putting up too much of a fight). At his command, Hawke moaned anticipatorily; it urged him onwards as he bent over to return to his task. He took her pearl in between forefinger and thumb and rolled it back and forth, then clamped his mouth down over it and sucked gently. She was squirming in Fenris’ arms, but the elf had a good hold on her and he wasn’t letting go. Her legs twitched, and Sebastian pressed them against the bed so that he could continue unimpeded.

“ _Please,_ oh _please_ ,” she begged, although her words came out more like moans the longer it went on. Finally, Sebastian heard Fenris growl: “Please _what_? Tell him what you want from him.” She was panting, her whole body vibrating, and Sebastian could tell he could push her over the brink if he wanted to with a few more well-placed touches. But then again, that wasn’t much fun now, was it? He stopped and sat back on his heels.

Her moans turned to needy whimpers at the loss of his mouth, and she wriggled in Fenris’ hold. His voice was low and almost menacing as he spoke into her hair, accentuating every word: “Tell. Him. What. You. Want. Hawke.”

“Sebastian, please! I want you inside me!”

 _I live to please you_ , he thought at that moment, shuddering at the fulfillment of a fantasy that had blossomed in his mind several years before. He gripped her tightly about the waist and positioned himself at her entrance, and with a roll of his hips plunged himself in. They both let out a gasp as she took him; he had, unintentionally, completely buried himself within her. She was so wet, and admittedly he was a bit out of practice, that he misjudged his thrust and found himself deep inside of her. Anxiety flashed within him, and to compensate he touched her pearl again, also somewhat forgetting how close she had been to peaking a moment before. Hawke gasped and her whole body tensed. Not only could he see the intensity in her face and in her arms, straining as they were against Fenris’ grip, but he could feel it in the way she clenched around him, insides rippling as she rode it out.

It took her a few moments to come back after that. Her eyes glazed over and her body went slightly limp. Fenris’ kisses on her neck seemed to break her reverie, and she smiled devilishly then. Sebastian was sure he was blushing as he resumed his thrusts, taking a slower pace this time. He felt her contract around him as he pulled himself almost completely free and then drove back in again. Her begging recommenced, and finally he couldn’t take the torture any more and sped up his pace considerably.

He realized at some point he’d closed his eyes, and when he opened them he was greeted by the shining green orbs of their elven bed-mate. He still had Hawke’s arms hooked up behind his head, but now it seemed that she kept them wrapped around his neck of her own accord. Her head lolled back on his shoulder and her fingers tangled in his snowy hair as Sebastian took her. But Fenris had his gaze locked on Sebastian’s, and an emotion played there that the man didn’t quite recognize. The hunger was there, but there was something else there that seemed foreign. Was it fear? He hadn’t seen the elf look scared before, but clearly he was struggling with some sort of internal apprehension, over what he couldn’t be sure. He suddenly had the urge to reach out and comfort him somehow.

He took a hand from Hawke’s waist and reached up, hesitantly cupping Fenris’ cheek. He thought he felt the elf lean into his palm. Those eyes were still watching him, and Sebastian found his gaze wandering down to the elf’s lips, glistening and parted, looking very much like they were about to say something. Sebastian tipped Fenris’ chin up, over Hawke’s right shoulder, and with his next thrust into her leaned down to kiss him.

He could sense the sudden shock of it in the air, and pulled back. Although it had seemed like the right thing to do at that moment, now that their lips were no longer touching he worried that perhaps he had crossed a line he hadn’t intended on crossing. Before his doubts could get the better of him, though, Fenris reached up and grabbed Sebastian by the nape of his neck, pulling him back down for another kiss. This time, the elf’s mouth opened and their tongues met. Sebastian felt himself relinquish control of the kiss as it grew more forceful. His thrusts became slower, more measured, as Fenris explored Sebastian’s mouth with his tongue. He felt another hand at the back of his head and, opening his eyes, realized that Hawke was watching the two of them kiss with rapt attention.

“Please, don’t stop on account of me,” she purred, and Fenris blushed and turned his head away slightly. Hawke snickered and, with a roguish skill only she possessed, slipped from their mutual embrace and tumbled off to the side. “Continue,” she said, a wide grin breaking out across her lips.

“Who said you were in charge here, Hawke?” Fenris growled, turning back towards her. Sebastian could only laugh as the elf pounced at her. He flipped her over onto her knees before she could protest and roughly grasped the back of her neck, forcing her chest to the bed and her bottom into the air. Sebastian could see the contented smile on her face, partially obscured by her dark hair, and she wriggled and waited for the inevitable. Fenris gripped her right hip tightly and drove into her, groaning as he did. His other hand reached out towards Sebastian and, when their eyes met, unfulfilled desire took hold of them both.

Sebastian surged forward, wrapping a strong arm around Fenris’ shoulders and crashing their open mouths together. Fenris continued his thrusts into Hawke, but his upper body turned towards Sebastian and the two of them were suddenly pawing at each other like teenagers. Chest to chest, mouth to mouth, they drank each other in and explored the contours of each other’s bodies with their hands. Sebastian felt his control slipping away again as Fenris’ hand encircled his manhood and began stroking it roughly. He thought he felt a thrum of energy pulse through him as the delicate lines of lyrium emblazoned onto Fenris’ skin started glowing a faint and eerie blue. Perhaps he was imagining it, he mused, but Hawke’s pleading voice—beyond coherence—confirmed that it wasn’t in his mind. He mindlessly thrust up and into Fenris’ hand, reveling in the sensation.

Fenris’ thrusting and stroking became more erratic as he neared climax. He pumped his hand furiously, and Sebastian swelled in response. At last the elf cried out; his rumbling shout resonated through Sebastian, driving him mad with desire. Fenris slumped, spent, against Hawke’s back.

Sebastian wasn’t sure what to do. His manhood pulsed, thick and eager, but Fenris had drawn his hand away once he’d come in order to better support himself. Sebastian wanted more, more of the both of them, in any and every way. His eyes traced the curve of their bodies, and he thought that he’d like to be buried within one of them, or both if it was possible. He felt the lust bubble up from deep inside him, and for a moment he felt detached from himself, as if he were looking down and seeing the old Sebastian, the one who’d taken his pleasure where he’d pleased without a wit of care for anyone else. The old Sebastian would have taken charge as soon as Fenris’ hand pulled away. The old Sebastian would have mounted Fenris and taken what he wanted, claimed his prize. The elf’s muscles flexed and rippled in the last throes of his orgasm, and it made Sebastian’s groin ache with yearning.

No. He was a changed man now, of that he was sure. Fenris and Hawke were his friends—his very best friends, people he cared about deeply. His relationship with Fenris meant he was privy to some of his closely guarded secrets, and based on what little knowledge he had, he couldn’t imagine the elf wanting him in that way. Images, fantasies of how it would be to make love to him, flashed in his mind, but he kept his composure. He would not give in to his baser passions. He would not, he would not, he _would not_ …

~*~

Hawke gripped the bed sheets in her hands and groaned into her mattress as Fenris came inside of her. Her whole body seemed electrified by sensation, and every movement of his hands over her backside, every pulse of him inside her, make her twitch with pleasure. For a moment she was lost to it, and she thought only of Fenris as she rode out his release.

Then the room started to come back into focus. Slowly her mind came back from that dark and senseless place it visited when she was in the heat of passion. Her first too-rationale thought was of her inner thighs, which ached from holding herself up against Fenris’ strong hands on her lower back. Her legs trembled ever-so-slightly, and she lamented the fact that even after so many years of traipsing all through Sundermount and the Wounded Coast she still had soft, womanly thighs.

 _Gods-damnit_. Could she never stop the near-constant stream of thoughts that inundated her mind? Sure, it was her greatest asset—a weapon in and of itself, as well as her armor, at times, which protected her from the realities of being the “Champion.” Sometimes, though, she wished she wasn’t so clever and didn’t have to _think_ about every thing so damn hard.

 _Sebastian_. Shit, she had almost forgotten about him. Of course, all of these thoughts passed through her head in a split second, so it wasn’t like she had lost any time in setting her plan in motion, but still she chastised herself. Tonight was about Fenris, Fenris and Sebastian, and she shouldn’t lose herself like that again.

She loved Fenris. Seriously, deeply, strongly. The feelings were shocking to Hawke, who had always had a very boring time of it when it came to affairs of the heart. She wasn’t inexperienced in the ways of making love, but her previous bedmates had been nothing compared to Fenris. She lost her virginity at sixteen, in a barn with a boy who had practically drowned her with his opened-mouth kisses when she’d accepted the bracelet he offered her as a token of his affections. The other young men she’d bedded before the Blight were less inexperienced but, for the most part, were too dim-witted or narrow-minded to do anything more than just lay on top of her and rut. By the time she was twenty-one she had sampled a wide variety of the male species—one of the Lothering town guards who was about ten years her senior, a strapping young man who was friends with Carver, and a traveling craftsman who had sold beautiful clay bowls to her neighbors and friends were among her more notable conquests—but one of the traits they all had in common was their utter disregard for anything other than their own pleasure.

But then had come the Blight, and Kirkwall, and a long dry spell for Hawke. Suddenly the world had seemed a lot larger and more dangerous to her, and toppling in to bed with someone she barely knew was quite obviously out of the question. Free Marchers truly detested Fereldans, first and foremost, but more importantly for Hawke, Kirkwall seemed a huge and intimidating place to Hawke when she first arrived. Whereas everyone in Lothering knew her name, her face, Kirkwall was a vast multitude of frowning faces and frayed nerves that set her on edge. It wasn’t until after the Deep Roads expedition did she finally feel at least safe once more. Fenris had ended Hawke’s dry spell—deliciously, but also heartbreakingly. His leaving had been a huge and unexpected blow to her, but they were past it now and she wasn’t one to dwell on things.

Then and now, the elf knew how to touch her in an intuitive way that always left her trembling and satiated. She had suspected that sex was meant to be pleasurable for both parties, but hadn’t truly experienced it until she was with him. For a man without a memory he was a proficient lover. It pained her to think from whence he gained his experience, but since he’d returned to her after killing his former master they had spent many nights making new memories for him—happy ones, filled with love and freedom. And orgasms for Hawke. Lots and lots of orgasms.

And now, it was his turn. Hawke was nothing if not perceptive, and it was only a matter of time before she had picked up on her beloved’s attraction to men in general, and Sebastian in particular. The way he stood when they were speaking, the color that rose in his olive complexion, not to mention how he stammered when Hawke finally confronted him about it. Of course, it seemed to her to be fairly natural, and nothing to be ashamed of—she had to admit she herself was attracted to women—and besides which, elves seemed to have a far more flexible view on sexuality.

She knew, though, that the possibility of being intimate with a man stirred dark memories in her love, of torments and humiliations she could only imagine. Although he opened himself up to her as much as he could, speaking at great length or in great detail was incredibly difficult for him, and usually their conversations only lasted a handful of minutes. Over time she had deduced the truth: Danarius used Fenris as more than just a bodyguard. Moreover, he didn’t just keep his slave for himself, but indeed it sounded to Hawke like he’d passed Fenris around to male and female magisters of varying degrees of depravity. From what little she knew she was certain that, aside from Hadriana, the men were the worst for him—brutal, cruel and unrelenting.

Sebastian was a different story, though. She knew, of course, that he had a wild past; she guessed that the number of sexual encounters the young Prince had had before turning to the Chantry probably rivaled Isabela’s. But age had tempered the man, and religion had calmed his soul. He was their friend and Hawke was absolutely certain that if Fenris allowed Sebastian to win their little fight for dominance (for she was quite certain her elven lover was indeed stronger than the Starkhaven rogue) it would bring a great deal of healing to him. Sebastian could be the balm for Fenris’ wounds.

On the other hand, Fenris had a dominant streak. Perhaps it was the years he spent chafing under the yoke of slavery, after he’d been “rescued” from Seheron by Danarius, but he was strong willed when it came to their bedroom games. Lucky for Hawke, she liked it that way—a strong hand between her shoulder blades or tangled in her hair, Fenris telling her what to do and how to do it. Being able to let go of all of her worries and responsibilities like that…well, it was a godsend for her. Maybe Sebastian could benefit from a similar experience.

She flipped over onto her back. Despite her intention of helping the two of them along, her body betrayed her. She was still a little bit drunk from the wine, her muscles were languid with the all of the exertion of handling two (incredibly strong, muscular, sexy) men, and her body tickled all over with the odd, probably lyrium-induced feeling she got when she was with Fenris. He smiled down at her then and leaned in to plant a kiss on her forehead. His eyes were so green and liquid, his touch gentle and caring, and she felt herself sinking deeper into her mattress, comfortable and content.

~*~

“I fear we have worn Hawke out,” Fenris said softly as he looked at Sebastian from behind an errant lock of white hair. He wasn’t sure whether to curse her or thank her for falling asleep and leaving him, for all intents and purposes, alone with Sebastian.

Sebastian looked at once awkward and magnificent. He was kneeling on the bed, legs spread slightly apart for balance, which had the unintentional result of showing off his muscular physique. His hair clung to his head in damp waves of auburn; his entire body was covered in a thin sheen of sweat. Fenris couldn’t help raking his gaze downwards, following the archer’s lean muscles to the point of the “v” at the base of the man’s abdomen where his manhood was fully erect and twitching noticeably. Sebastian’s chest heaved as he panted with unfulfilled desire.

Fenris shifted to kneel so that he was facing him, chest-to-chest. For a long moment they examined each other as one would examine his own reflection. Sensing his friend’s reticence (for whatever reason, he wasn’t entirely sure) Fenris finally broke the silence.

“I’m still up for another round,” he growled as he reached for Sebastian and pulled their lips together again. He felt the tension in Sebastian’s neck and shoulders give a little as the taller man angled down to meet the elf’s open mouth. Their teeth gnashed together and their tongues darted back and forth, each trying to lay claim to the other. For several minutes their mouths were their only point of contact save for Fenris’ fingers twisting in the hair at the nape of Sebastian’s neck.

Fenris shifted his weight, then, and reached his other arm up and around Sebastian’s neck. At the same time Sebastian moved to readjust, and suddenly their bodies touched in the most intimate of places. Gasping, Sebastian wrapped his arms around Fenris and deepened their kiss. His embrace almost crushed the air out of the elf, and Fenris felt himself leaning backwards as Sebastian claimed his mouth more thoroughly. Their bodies formed a narrow cavern, and twin erections—still slick with Hawke’s wetness—slid in a frenzied back-and-forth rhythm between them.

Fenris raked his nails down Sebastian’s back, enjoying the feel of him under his touch as Sebastian pressed more insistently against him. Although he wasn’t the first man Fenris had ever experienced, he held the honor of being the first that Fenris actually wanted to be with. As a slave, he had never been permitted to explore or to enjoy the things that were done to him; he wasn’t so much a participant as he was an object. But now…now he was free. Free to enjoy himself, free to take what he wanted. Six months ago, he would have never imagined being so self-aware, but time, and Hawke, were slowly helping him reclaim the life of a free individual—a life he didn’t remember but wanted for himself so badly.

His hands groped their way down Sebastian’s torso and gripped the other man’s length firmly. As Fenris resumed stroking him, Sebastian pulled himself back away from their kiss and threw his head back, letting loose an unrestrained groan.

“ _Maker, yes_!”

Sebastian grabbed blindly for Fenris, and when his hands found purchase they pulled the elf towards him. They fell backwards, towards the foot of the bed, and Fenris unassumingly took hold of Sebastian’s wrist with his free hand and pinned it above the man’s head. He traced the line of his collarbone with fervent kisses as he stroked his shaft roughly. Sebastian bucked underneath him and thrashed about, rubbing his one free hand over whatever patch of Fenris’ bare skin he could reach. For a few moments, Fenris thought he had triumphed in their passion-game.

Sebastian, however, had other plans. One should never forget that Sebastian, exiled heir to the throne of Starkhaven, was not a warrior, but a rogue. Dexterity and cunning were his greatest attributes, and he used them to his advantage as instinctually as a predatory bird stalks its prey. In one movement, he slipped his wrist out of Fenris’ grasp and gathered the elf up in an embrace. He flipped them both with a trick of shifting his weight, swapping their positions in the blink of an eye. Fenris looked shocked, but he smirked up at Sebastian.

Sebastian gripped the side of Fenris’ face with one hand and leaned down into a possessive kiss. His other hand moved down the length of the elf’s lithe frame, tentatively brushing his fingertips down Fenris’ erection.

Fenris experienced his mind going blank. It was a pleasurable sort of blankness, though, not like the disorienting blankness he recalled as the first few months of his life after receiving his lyrium tattoos. He surrendered to it, unthinking, relishing the Prince’s attentions. With excruciating slowness, Sebastian traced the edges of Fenris’ length and wrapped his hand around it, digit by digit. He continued to lavish his lips with heavy kisses, which grew more frenzied in time with the stroking of his hand up and down. They bodies ground together, and Fenris sensed he was about to get swept away.

He realized, then, that he was free to do whatever he wanted—free to let go of his worries, free to surrender if that was what he desired. Danarius was not there lurking in the shadows of his mind. The spectre of his dead master did not leer out at him from the past. He did not think of healing, nor did he think of the torment of having his identity at once ripped from his mind and emblazoned onto his skin. It was just that moment, his trusted friend, their mouths, their hands.

“ _Fenris_ …” Sebastian’s urgent whisper broke though to him. He opened his eyes, staring straight at him. “Fenris, I…” he stammered, and Fenris saw uncertainty flicker through his eyes, “I _want_ …”

“Then take,” Fenris commanded.

It was pain and pleasure. Searing, exquisite ecstasy. They moved together as one, Sebastian’s thrusts coming at first at a gentle, measured pace that had Fenris arching his back and wordlessly begging for more. Sebastian’s right hand gripped the elf’s left thigh for leverage, and the pace quickened. Fenris swore more loudly than he’d intended in Arcanum, and Sebastian buried his face in Fenris’ neck, the name of his god on his lips. The friction of their bodies and Sebastian’s breathy, accented voice in his ear were almost too much for Fenris. He choked back a cry when he felt a hand circle his length again, pumping with a vigor that matched Sebastian’s ever-increasing rhythm.

It was over quickly after that. Sebastian nearly exploded with the force of his release, and let out a deep breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding. Fenris followed him in quick succession over the edge, lost to a feeling of mind-numbing pleasure as his body instinctively responded to the last off-beat jerks of Sebastian’s hips.

Sebastian rolled off of Fenris and collapsed in a heap at his side, exhaling again loudly. All Fenris could do was take long gulps of air and sigh. They both laid still on the bed, sprawled out as much as they could, gasping and panting for breath. Fenris apprehensively looked over towards Sebastian. Sebastian didn’t notice at first, and pushed his arms weakly against the mattress to sit himself upright. The rogue turned and grinned at Fenris, revealing his dimples. They both began to laugh.

Suddenly, Hawke was up, pouncing between the two of them like a cat and tackling them with both her arms around their necks. She kissed them both in turns on their cheeks, noisy and dramatic, and they all laughed together.

“Why is everyone _laughing_?” she said, sounding more than a little drunk. Fenris knew from experience that Hawke had an infamous delayed-drunk reaction, so he wouldn’t be surprised if she’d slept through that entire thing.

But then, he noticed, she was wearing her nightgown. He decided he’d thank her. That is, he’d thank her in the morning, properly, when they were alone again.

Entwined, the three closed their eyes and drifted off to sleep.


End file.
